


Breaking Point

by Kaoru_chibimaster



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blood and Violence, Explicit Sexual Content, FFXV kinkmeme, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Omegaverse, Rape Aftermath, Rape/Non-con Elements, Semi-Public Sex, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-15
Updated: 2018-04-15
Packaged: 2019-04-23 03:22:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14323467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaoru_chibimaster/pseuds/Kaoru_chibimaster
Summary: It all happened too fast.Noctis' heat came in the wrong place, at the wrong time, and he'll have to live with the consequences for the rest of his life.





	Breaking Point

**Author's Note:**

> Fill for [this kinkmeme prompt](https://ffxv-kinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/4747.html?thread=9687435#cmt9687435), which got way longer than anticipated. Oh my god.

“God damnit.”

The others jumped slightly at Noctis' exclamation, raising their eyebrows at him. They clearly hadn’t noticed why he said what he said, but they would pick up on it soon enough. The symptoms of heat had started to creep up on Noctis, slowly but surely. Quickly, the others would start to smell it.

Noctis figured he should have expected it at some point. His group had been on the move nonstop since Insomnia fell. Noctis had no time to process it: his city's destruction, his father's death, his pact with two gods, his impending trip to Altissia. Cor barking orders before they had time to breathe, Gladio returning to the group with more scars than he left with, revelations in Steyliff on what the empire had been doing with daemons, the chancellor and his indiscernible goals…all of it was too much. Too out of the ordinary. Too new and too different. Noctis' body responded to the stress accordingly, sending out signals from his glands that he needed help and he needed protection. Noctis didn’t actually **want**  help or protection, he wanted his Six-damned crystal back—he wanted his entire fucking life back, but the price of being an omega meant that his body would do the opposite of what he wanted. It sent him quickly spiraling into an unwanted, out-of-cycle heat, his body in desperate enough need to call out for help for him.

This wasn’t helping at all though because his alphas refused to mate him in heat and risk pregnancy, and his beta didn’t have the pheromones necessary to calm Noctis down. Not to mention there was still a tiny chance he could also impregnate Noctis during heat, and though it was miniscule it was still a risk neither Noctis nor Prompto were willing to take. Despite that, Prompto was unaffected by the smell of heat on Noctis’ skin, having not been made to respond to it the way an alpha would. So it was expected that once Gladio and Ignis got a whiff of Noctis’ heat, they would leave him with Prompto. Not that he minded being left with Prompto under any other circumstances, not at all. But the disheartening feeling that washed over him when the two alphas were quick to jump away from him, refusing to touch him, to even look at him, in lieu of dumping him on Prompto dragged his mood down pretty quickly. It happened too quickly and without warning for Gladio and Ignis to truly be prepared, to handle the situation more delicately. Noctis knew this. It still hurt when they all but ran from him, making up excuses about how they needed to stock up on food and supplies before the trip to Caem, as their footsteps quickly faded away. Usually they’d find a hotel, check in to two rooms and make sure Noctis was comfortable before leaving him to his heat for its duration. This time, with no money for the Leville and Noctis being in no state to go with them on a hunt to gather that kind of gil, the abrupt way they left him was as out of the ordinary as it was disappointing.

He hadn’t even had the chance to do anything but curse before it all happened. It was kind of ridiculous.

Prompto looked at him with a half-sympathetic grin. “Guess you’re stuck with me, bud.”

Noctis rolled his eyes and grinned, silently glad at Prompto’s attempt to retain some semblance of normalcy despite the growing flush over Noctis’ skin and the oddity of their alphas running off like that.

“I’ve been stuck with you for five years. I think by now I’m used to it,” Noctis teased. His grin widened at Prompto’s indignant ‘hey’, catching the growing smile on his bonded mate’s face as well. Noctis would have preferred if all of his bonded mates surrounded him, but he couldn’t deny the happiness that welled in him every time he spent one on one time with Prompto. His perpetual good mood was too infectious.

“Here. Let’s go find somewhere private before you wet your pants or something,” Prompto joked. Mostly joked. Soon enough, Noctis would slick up enough that his pants would start to form a wet stain, and he really didn’t want to be standing in the middle of the busiest street in Lestallum when that happened.

Either way, he didn’t feel bad about shoving Prompto for the jib. “Shut up! Like you’d do any better in my shoes!”

-o-

Prompto had done a good job at keeping Noctis distracted at first. He pulled him by hand through the back alleys, rambling on about whatever came to mind while still leaving room for Noctis to respond. It was a good tactic, but slowly Noctis’ responses grew fewer. Where before he’d been entering heat, with only the strong scent and the feverish skin appearing as symptoms, he was gradually descending into the thick of it now. His mind was slightly fuzzy, his breathing quick and desperate, his nose trying to catch the scent of an alpha that might be able to alleviate the heat. Try as he might to keep himself in check, Noctis was never good with controlling himself during heats. He’d never had to before. Cooped up in the Citadel or his apartment, hidden away from any alphas, he’d carried out his heats with toys and occasionally Prompto’s helping hands. In Lestallum, he was surrounded by so many scents that it was overwhelming. Alpha threaded through the thick haze like trails of smoke, all leading in different directions that made Noctis dizzy just from breathing. When he’d grown quiet, lost in the haze, Prompto hadn’t noticed.

It was when he started calling out for alphas that Prompto noticed.

It was embarrassing, Noctis thought, that he would even make such noises at all. High pitched whines in the back of his throat meant to catch the ear of whomever might have been in the general vicinity. He honestly hadn’t even realized he was making those sounds until Prompto turned to him, eyes owlishly wide and eyebrows risen nearly to his hairline. The fingers gripped around Noctis’ tightened and Prompto pulled him further into the back alleys. There weren’t many places they could go to get privacy. The Leville was too expensive for them as of that moment, there were no campers or campsites anywhere near, and some of the seedier joints were too dangerous to consider. Hidden in the darkness of one of the alleys near the power plant, they’d have to make do and hope anyone who might have heard them would leave them alone.

Desperation made Prompto a quick thinker. He needed the noises to stop before they garnered unwanted attention, and so he handled the situation the best way he knew how. He’d have to satisfy Noctis himself. Prompto grabbed Noctis’ shoulders, pushing him back gently until his back touched the brick wall. His whining ceased momentarily, eyes unfocused as all of his senses centered on the contact. It wasn’t quite skin on skin, but Prompto smelled familiar and comforting, and Noctis knew his intent. He was going to get some relief.

He doubted he was really all that appealing, covered in dirt and still smelling of the power plant chemicals and the stale smell of sweat from being inside one of those thermal suits. He hadn’t gotten a chance to clean up since he and Gladio had taken out those daemons for Holly in exchange for her refining their mythril. Not even the smell of heat would really do anything for Prompto, being a beta who was immune to omega pheromones. But the way he looked at Noctis, eyes dark and wanting, sent a thrill through Noctis nonetheless. He allowed their actions to speak for them, needing no further communication as he unbuttoned his own pants before lifting his hands to shove them underneath Prompto’s shirt, running them over firm skin. Gods, he could feel Prompto’s pulse, could practically smell it as Prompto’s scent thickened with arousal. Noctis’ eyes closed automatically as his bond mate reciprocated the touch, trailing his fingers behind Noctis, down his pants and underneath the fabric of his underwear to grip at his buttocks. Immediately he moaned lowly, the desperate whines gone now that he was being touched.

Upturned lips pressed against Noctis’ and he automatically opened his mouth and kissed Prompto deeply. The wet slide of their tongues sent another wave of heat blooming under his skin, joined by the smack of lips and the rustle of fabrics as their hips gyrated together. Noctis’ hands ran over Prompto’s skin hungrily, pawing at every inch, rolling peaked nipples, all in an attempt to rile Prompto up. The back of Noctis’ heat-soaked mind reminded him that he wouldn’t get the knot his body craved. That he likely wouldn’t be penetrated by anything other than Prompto’s fingers, not when they had no condoms on hand and Noctis’ refusal to take birth control left him almost flagrantly fertile. The greater part of his mind didn’t care so much. Not when Prompto turned him around, mouthing at his neck, even sucking a mark into the junction of his neck and shoulder, as his fingers pushed Noctis’ clothing down further. A prod at Noctis’ slicked entrance sent a jolt through him, the finger entering as Prompto bit down lightly at Noctis’ scent gland. It wouldn’t do anything…couldn’t, really. No beta could mark an omega. But the intent was there and it damn near set Noctis on fire. He couldn’t keep quiet at the mixture of sensations. The smooth push and pull of Prompto’s finger inside Noctis, the stretch when another one was added. The weight of the freckled blond against his back, warm and calming. The hitches in his breathing, rhythmic against Noctis’ skin as Prompto started sucking more marks into it. He moaned loudly when Prompto curled his fingers just right, thrusting them in and out to push against that perfect spot over and over again. Neither of them _cared_ if anyone could hear them by then. And that was where they’d gone wrong.

Too drawn in by their own activities to notice the approach of someone behind them, it came as a harsh surprise when Prompto was suddenly ripped away from Noctis, a startled yelp escaping him. Immediately, Noctis’ guard was up as he turned to spot the offender. An alpha, standing about a foot taller than both Noctis and Prompto and dressed in loose black clothing, was holding a struggling Prompto by the collar of his tank top. He let go when Prompto finally elbowed him in the stomach, the beta’s feet stumbling as he tried to catch himself when he was dropped. The strange alpha paid him no mind, his focus solely on Noctis. His own scent, something earthy and raw, drifted lazily to Noctis, sending sparks through all of his nerves. This alpha was in rut. That wasn’t good.

“Now,” he started, “imagine my thought process when I hear the cries of an omega in need, only to find him getting finger fucked by a beta. That just ain’t right.”

He took a step closer to Noctis then. “You should let an alpha take care of you.”

Whoever this guy was, his own mind was clearly clouded by his own biology, and Noctis tried to keep this in mind as he turned the man down. No matter how much his heated body yearned for that very touch.

“Not interested.”

The alpha’s eyes trailed hungrily over Noctis’ form, focusing in on his exposed pelvis and the sparse patterns of dark hair leading to the arousal tenting his underwear. He was quick to pull his pants back up once he noticed where that gaze was centered.

The alpha only smirked at his behavior. “I’d say you are, judging by your scent.”

“Fuck off, man, he said no,” Prompto practically spat at him, stepping in front of Noctis protectively. It sent the alpha into a fit of laughter.

“And what the hell are _you_ gonna do for him? No knot, no scent… All bark and no bite. Just like every beta.”

He was wrong, Noctis knew. So what if Prompto had no knot? He still treated Noctis like a lover should, and that was more than good enough. He may have only had a strong scent to his bonded mates, but it was a scent nonetheless. It didn’t have to be as strong as an alpha’s. And Prompto’s bite was far worse than his bark, as he was quick to prove in every battle.

Prompto, for his part, didn’t rise to the bait. His one advantage over most alphas was his higher resistance to being goaded into a fight. His goal was getting Noctis out of the situation, not spurring it on.

“I said fuck off. He’s not interested.”

The alpha only snorted, physically pushing Prompto out of his way. His strength was already impressive, being an alpha, and rut only made it more so. Prompto all but flew out of the way, stumbling once again and falling flat when he couldn’t quite catch himself. The amusement in the alpha’s eyes only fed Noctis’ own irritation, the prince not taking such treatment lying down. Quick to cover Prompto, Noctis raised a fist to strike the stranger. He was fixed with a look when he recaptured the alpha’s attention, his eyes commanding and unmoving. A smell assaulted Noctis’ nose then, setting off signals in his brain that he needed to back off and heed the alpha. It was as if being thrown into a brick wall: all of Noctis’ muscles locked in place involuntarily. Frustrated, his fists clenched and his teeth bared, brow furrowed as he glared down the smirk on the alpha’s face.

“Don’t fight me, pipsqueak. I’m not interested in roughing you up. At least, not that way. You called, I came. I’m just here for a good fuck.”

Another step towards Noctis sent Prompto surging back up from his place on the ground. He was quick to follow up on the swing Noctis had intended to send at the alpha, missing by a hair as the larger man dodged. His moves were frighteningly deft, planting a seed of worry in Noctis’ mind as it started to dawn on him just how much trouble they’d gotten themselves into. At first, the alpha didn’t seem too concerned about Prompto, offhandedly attempting to plant him with an intimidating look as well. Alpha influence, much like omega heat, didn’t work on betas though. Prompto didn’t let his swing send him reeling again, instead turning on his heel to pitch another fist at the alpha. It wasn’t with the intent to truly engage in a brawl, Noctis realized. It was a diversion meant to give Noctis time to run. Except, he _couldn’t_. He was stuck in place as the alpha’s scent washed over him again, frying his senses in the aftermath of the stranger’s attempt to scare Prompto off. It left Prompto in a dangerous situation: one where’d he have to seriously fight this alpha off instead of getting the chance to run once Noctis got away. And the alpha wasn’t patient enough to let it continue for too long.

He was quick to engage Prompto as well, taking blows against thick forearms as he guarded and doling them out just as fiercely in return. Crownsguard training had taken the blond far, and Prompto himself put up a damn good fight as a result. Feinting left and right, dodging out of the alpha’s attacks swiftly and delivering easy blows of his own. Noctis was proud of him…but he wasn’t confident. Prompto was a beta fighting an alpha in rut and his counters were only serving to piss the man off. Where before it seemed as if he was playing with Prompto, the annoyed shift in his expression was the only warning the beta received before he was swiftly punched in the gut. Noctis winced when a loud crack met his ears and his best friend and bond mate went down. Fighting against his own natural body reactions took work, but Noctis wasn’t going to stand there and watch Prompto go down without doing something. His engine blade was called to his hands easily, his breath held as he tried not to inhale the alpha’s scent. He’d managed to get it raised just as the alpha turned, noticing his attack in his periphery. The front of Noctis’ shirt was grabbed, his feet scrapping against the asphalt as he was dragged forward, the alpha gripping his arm with the other hand and holding it in place.

“You’re feisty. I like that. But I don’t have the patience for your games,” he said, his face a hair’s breadth away from Noctis’. Noctis made the mistake of inhaling in surprise, having not expected such a quick reaction, and once again the heady scent of alpha washed over him, loosening his muscles and lulling him into a relaxed state. He only just had the presence of mind to notice Prompto summoning his gun out of the corner of his eye. Unfortunately, this also caught the alpha’s eye.

Lightning fast, he dropped Noctis and, to their surprise, pulled out his own firearm. It was aimed straight at Prompto’s forehead before he even had the chance to pull his safety back.

“Clever of you, pulling a gun on me. But trust me kid, I’ve got years of experience on you. I don’t go around killing betas but…” his own weapon clicked, “I’ll make an exception if I need to. Put it down.”

“…You’re a damn hunter,” Noctis pointed out from his heap on the ground, his voice airy, drunk on pheromones as he struggled to breathe past the scent. It wasn’t working. He only barely had the clarity to realize why this random alpha could so easily fight them off, rut or not.

No answer, but the smug glint in the alpha’s eyes gave Noctis all the answer he needed. He shook his head at Prompto, urging him to lower his weapon. He’d take some alpha fooling around with him if it meant Prompto wouldn’t get killed in the process. It didn’t agree with Prompto at all—being a crownsguard meant putting his life on the line for Noctis—but even he knew a bad situation when he saw one. How would he know that continuing to fight back wouldn’t mean the hunter would pull the gun on Noctis instead? He certainly seemed the type. Gritting his teeth, he lowered his gun as he lowered his head in defeat. A mistake.

The alpha was quick to take advantage of Prompto’s lowered guard, thwacking him in the head with the butt of his gun and knocking him out.

“Prompto!” Noctis called out, his heartrate spiking and his voice frantic.

“Calm down, he’ll be fine. Just don’t want him trying something when I turn my back,” the alpha said, putting his gun back on his belt. He turned to Noctis then, looking him up and down again and breathing in deeply. “Damn, you smell good.”

He slowly approached Noctis, almost prowling towards him. The predatory gaze focused on Noctis’ body sent shivers down his spine, and it disgusted him to note that they weren’t all bad. His instincts were warring with his mind, hormones going haywire at the thought of having a big, strong alpha take care of him. It was shameful, as far as Noctis saw it. This asshole just beat up and threatened Prompto, Noctis shouldn’t want the man anywhere near him. Yet all of his senses hummed in pleasure as his approached brought with it that strong, musky scent, clouding his mind.

He didn’t want this.

He didn’t.

He lifted his hips when the alpha commanded, assuming a submissive position. He _didn’t want this_. His skin heated as callused fingers dragged over it, pulling his clothes off with ease where they’d already been displaced by Prompto’s deft hands. He didn’t want this, but… When the alpha entered him, he couldn’t stop the keen of pleasure from leaving his mouth. Slick dripped down his thighs, squelching lewdly as the alpha pounded into him, right there in the middle of a damn alley. Noctis’ face was pressed into his arms, his eyes closed tightly. He wanted to imagine it was one of his bond mates that he was with. He wanted to pretend it was Ignis’ long fingers pressing into his back, or Prompto’s warm breath brushing against his nape, or Gladio’s firm thrusts rocking him back and forth. He wanted to pretend the praises of how good he felt, how pretty he was, how amazing he smelled were in low, gentle, familiar voices. He couldn’t. This alpha felt like the stranger he was. He fucked Noctis a little too roughly, lost in the scent of Noctis’ heat, to truly feel like Gladio. His fingers too thick and rough to feel like Ignis’. His breaths too heavy to be Prompto’s enthused gasps. His scent was something entirely _off_ from what Noctis was used to, too foreign and too strong. It enveloped him too heavily, as if the alpha was still trying his damnest to exert his influence over Noctis. Not that he had to. Not when Noctis’ body betrayed him so thoroughly, his hips pressing back into the alpha’s eagerly, his limbs limp as he allowed himself to be manhandled. Even under such an influence, he refused to be an active participant in his own violation. But he couldn’t, and didn’t, stop it from happening. Not when the alpha knotted him, cumming inside him in hot, heavy spurts. Not when his rut brought his arousal back to full stiffness in so little time and he fucked Noctis again. And again. And again.

Eventually, finally, he was sated enough to release Noctis, letting the prince’s used body fall to the ground in a boneless heap. Noctis grimaced as he felt the alpha’s release trickle slowly over his thighs, his own heat satisfied enough that his mind was cleared. No longer was the alpha’s scent inviting; instead it brought a sour taste to Noctis’ mouth as bile traveled up his throat. The alpha said nothing. He didn’t touch Noctis again, didn’t even look at Prompto, only pulled his pants back up and zippered them.

He adjusted his clothes nonchalantly, as if he hadn’t just attacked two people in a rut-fueled haze and raped an omega, checking to make sure his weapon was secure and the red marks from Prompto’s assault weren’t visible before turning and walking away.

As an afterthought, he muttered to Noctis “Thanks for a good time,” boredly, as if Noctis had been doing him a service and it was merely passable. He really was a piece of shit.

It was only after he was gone that Noctis was finally able to choke out a “fuck you” in the direction he’d left. It was wobbly. Watery and trembling. Noctis’ entire body shook: with rage, with disgust, with hate, with shame. Angry tears beaded at his eyelids, threatening to spill as Noctis struggled to breathe normally. His stress was returning; a new kind that wracked his body with sobs he was loath to let out. He couldn’t afford to lay there and cry, he told himself. He needed to pick himself up off the ground and get Prompto some help for what was likely a concussion and a broken rib. He needed to find Gladio and Ignis so that they could help him carry the beta. He needed to find that pile of filth alpha and rip him to shreds with his bare fucking hands. He needed to…

He needed to…

He couldn’t do anything. He couldn’t do anything but lay there as the tears finally spilled and rolled over his cheeks. He couldn’t do anything but cry, used and discarded like some dirty napkin, naked against the concrete while cum dried on his skin. He couldn’t do anything when his other two bonded mates finally found him and Prompto, their scents a mixture of fuming rage and cloying worry. He was picked up off the ground and carried away uselessly. Because he couldn’t do anything and he hated himself for it.

There was only the smallest of silver linings when he realized that the alpha never bit him. He didn’t think he could live with himself if he’d let that happen.

-o-

“What I don’t understand is how the fuck this happened,” Gladio growled, pacing back and forth in front of the door to Prompto’s hospital room. He’d need to rest up as his body mended. Potions didn’t do much for broken bones if they weren’t set first, and none of them were allowed inside yet.

Noctis sat in the chair beside the door, unresponsive. The presence of his alphas was barely noted in the back of his mind, his heat subsided and unlikely to flair back up for a while. He wished it would go away entirely but it ran under his skin like a persistent flame. This time Gladio and Ignis didn’t run, too pissed off and protective to leave Noctis on his own again. They barely even seemed to notice that Noctis was still in heat, not when the scent of a foreign alpha coated his skin, soaked in his clothes, setting off all of their alarms. He wasn’t paying them much mind either. He hadn’t gotten a chance to shower the scent off, having been rushed off to the hospital as well to be looked over. The alpha hadn’t hurt him…physically, and even he knew this. Only a few scrapes littered his forearms and knees where he’d been pressed into the concrete as the alpha…

The entire thing played in Noctis’ mind again, against his will. He told himself not to think about it. It was just sex, right? He should forget about it. But he couldn’t. It invaded his every thought how powerless he was against the alpha. Images of the man’s face flashed in Noctis’ mind, the sensation of heaving breaths and rough fingers playing over his skin like ghostly whispers. The feeling of a deep heat in Noctis’ body, thrusting in and out roughly; a heavy body pinning Noctis to the ground. The sight of Prompto’s unconscious, bloodied face, the cut on the side of his head dripping the red liquid sluggishly. The taste and smell of vomit when it was finally ejected from Noctis’ throat. The salty scrape of tears as they rolled down Noctis’ cheeks.

He jumped when a hand touched his shoulder, flinching away from the touch. His vision swam for a moment before he realized he was looking into comforting green eyes instead of the muddy, unfamiliar brown of his attacker’s. The worry was clear in them, sheathing barely checked anger as Ignis attempted to appear less threatening. Noctis wasn’t threatened by him, never had been and never would be. But the feeling of that alpha touching his skin was still so fresh in his mind. As if his hand had reached out to Noctis, instead of Ignis’.

“Noct, are you…” Ignis stopped short, thinking better of the question. Of course Noctis wasn’t okay. He wasn’t stubborn enough that he wouldn’t admit that what that alpha had done to him wasn’t ‘okay’. But Ignis didn’t have to pull his hand back as if he’d been burned. It didn’t make Noctis feel better, that was for certain.

He’d opened his mouth to relay this and…nothing came out. He didn’t know what to say. What the hell was there to say to this whole situation?

Gladio’s continued ranting in the background was the only noise to fill the silence left in the wake of Noctis’ reticence.

“I can’t fucking believe it. How the fuck did some piece of fucking trash alpha get away with fucking rape in the middle of a crowded city?! When I find the piece of shit that scent belongs to…” Gladio’s teeth grinding was audible, his fists clenched and his face red with fury. He stalked back and forth through the hospital hallway, never straying too far from the others. The protective aura he exuded was comforting to Noctis, but his anger… The expression on his face. Again, the image of the pissed off alpha exchanging blows with Prompto drifted to the forefront of Noctis’ mind. The smug triumph when Prompto went down. The leering arousal when he came for Noctis.

Fuck.

Noctis buried his face in his hands and pleaded with his own mind to make the memories stop. Ignis’ attention was drawn back to him after it had drifted to Gladio, the warmth of his presence soothing Noctis as a hand hovered unsurely over his back. He was tired of that already. They weren’t him. _They weren’t_ **_him_**. They could fucking touch him.

“…You can touch me, Ignis,” he mumbled through his fingers, trying hard not to flinch again when a palm was placed between his shoulder blades, rubbing lightly over the clothed skin. It was caked in dirt from where it’d been tossed aside in the alleyway, but Noctis would rather be wearing it than laid bare again.

“I’m so sorry, Noct. We shouldn’t have left you. Either of you.”

Noctis’ eyes drifted to Prompto’s door again, regret staining his thoughts as he remembered how helpless he was as Prompto was beaten to the ground. What sort of prince was he that he could stand aside and let those closest to him get hurt like that?

“I should be sorry.” For being useless. For letting that alpha fuck him like he was some whore. For being an omega. “I should have done more—”

“Don’t you dare start with that,” Ignis quickly cut him off. “That disgusting riffraff should never have laid his hands on you or Prompto. None of that was your fault, so don’t you dare blame yourself.”

It was the harshest he’d ever heard Ignis address him. Yet somehow it was still meant to make him feel better. He didn’t deserve to feel better, as far as he saw it. He let him…he let that alpha…

“I just…stood there. I let him influence me.” Noctis buried his face further in his hands. He was ashamed to even be looked at.

“Noctis, you’re in heat. You can’t fault yourself for your body’s natural reactions, especially when in such a vulnerable state.” A tinge of guilt colored Ignis’ tone then. “If anything, Gladio and I should never have let you two wander around by yourselves like that. We should have found some way to get you both into a hotel room. We should have stayed with you instead of running off so selfishly.”

Even Gladio had stopped pacing, his posture sagging and his head lowered in defeat.

“Yeah,” he said. “Alphas, omegas, none of that matters. We should have been there to protect you. _I_ should have…”

Been there to shield Noctis? Images of Gladio’s face, Ignis’ face, covered in blood in place of Prompto’s met his mind this time. Pictures his subconscious created of his bond mates bleeding out from gunshot wounds when the alpha pulled his weapon on them and caught them off guard. A sense of dread washed over Noctis at the thought of losing them. He didn’t think he’d be able to handle that.

At Noctis’ frown, it must’ve crossed Ignis’ mind that the omega disagreed with him and Gladio as he suddenly started pushing out his own scent. At first Noctis stiffened, uncomfortable with being subjected to someone else’s influence again. He hated feeling that helpless. He hated knowing that there was nothing he could do about it.

But Ignis’ natural smell was so achingly familiar to Noctis. It was nostalgic, even. It brought back every good memory they’d built together: the clean scent of Ignis’ skin when they cuddled as children, the allure of his musk when they made love after they grew older, the warmth of his skin as it slid over Noctis’… Gladio’s own scent joined Ignis’ as he stopped pacing, standing next to Noctis and in front of Prompto’s door protectively. The feeling doubled, lulling Noctis into serenity as his nerves calmed and his muscles relaxed. It wasn’t the helpless way his body had failed him when the stranger forced his influence on Noctis. It was home, to Noctis. It was his apartment in Insomnia, stretched out underneath his alphas’ arms, safe in their grip. He couldn’t find it in himself to be upset with him for using that tactic on him. He needed it, he realized. He needed them to make him feel normal again.

-o-

It didn’t surprise Noctis when he found out he was pregnant. An alpha in rut mating an omega in heat almost guaranteed a baby by the end of it.

No, he wasn’t surprised. But he was afraid.

He didn’t want this baby. He didn’t want a child that was born out of what Noctis went through. He didn’t want a child with someone that he’d never bonded to. He didn’t want a child with anyone other than his three mates. He didn’t want to look at a face that might resemble the smirking hunter in Noctis’ fuzzy memories. He didn’t want to look at his own child’s face and hate it.

His mates convinced him to keep it. He’d never really planned to abort it, that would make him hate himself more and the kid really did deserve a chance at life. It’d done nothing wrong. But the thought of not keeping it once it was born crossed his mind more than a few times. He’d run through so many arguments with himself on why the kid was better off without him. It didn’t need a weak omega for a parent. It didn’t need to grow up with an omega father who couldn’t even protect himself. It’d be ridiculed once the Lucian court was reinstated and the monarchy restored. A true bastard not worthy of inheriting the throne. Through Noctis it was legitimate, especially due to the fact that it wasn’t conceived through infidelity, but the talk would be there, following the kid throughout their entire life.

The others wouldn’t hear it.

“You’re overreacting, Noct,” Prompto reassured him. “The baby’s yours. That asshole had the barest minimum to do with it, and that sure as hell doesn’t make him a father.”

Obviously not. The very idea of calling that shit stain a ‘father’ make Noctis want to upchuck. But nature didn’t care how he felt about the man. He was still half of this child.

“It’s not overreacting, Prompto. Noctis has legitimate concerns and we should consider his feelings,” Ignis said. He turned his own attention to Noctis then. “But I do agree that that hunter had the least to do with your baby, Noctis. You’re the one carrying it, nurturing it and eventually birthing it. And we’re all here to support you the whole way through. Please. Consider that.”

It wasn’t that Noctis hasn’t. He’d thought about how their trip to Altissia was postponed for the duration of Noctis’ pregnancy. How his mates crowded around him, taking care of him and the baby as if it was their own. He couldn’t imagine how they must have felt knowing it was another man’s child.

He felt small, like he was under constant scrutiny, despite the fact that no one blamed him or held ill will towards him. He’d been met with pity when the story got out, hands placed on his back and shoulders, arms thrown around him in teary hugs. Iris sobbed for him for a while when she realized what had happened, old enough to understand even despite her relative innocence. Cid’s silent fuming was response enough, his quiet mutterings revealing an apology towards Regis for what his son had suffered. Cor had tried to play the pacifist, calming the group down and keeping them grounded and focused. Noctis wasn’t falling for that. He knew Cor was plotting on going back to Lestallum to personally murder the man that violated the prince. He knew Gladio and Ignis were in on the plot. Hell, he knew Prompto knew and wasn’t planning on stopping it. Noctis didn’t want to stop it, not really. But he didn’t want his alphas to go.

When they snuck off in the night, a panic attack wracked his body with violent shakes, his lungs shuttering through every breath. Prompto held him through it, muttering frantically for him to breathe before he passed out. He ended up doing so anyway. He didn’t feel much better when the others came back, a cold acceptance in their eyes. They’d found him, likely thanks to Gladio’s determination to remember the scent of the strange alpha that had clung to Noctis. That had been the end of the stranger’s place in Noctis’ life, as far as everyone around him was concerned.

The dreams, however, held him firmly in his place in Noctis’ mind. He existed. He didn’t simply stop existing just because Noctis’ mates and Cor ‘took care of him’. The alpha’s face still filtered through the blackness of Noctis’ nightmares. He still crept up on him silently, pushing him down and taking him roughly. The scenario replayed in Noctis’ mind like a movie, each playback worse than the last. Sometimes, he imagined the alpha taking him too roughly, breaking him. Sometimes, he imagined the alpha following through on his threat to Prompto, shooting him in the head. Sometimes, he imagined the rest of his mates following in a bloody demise. Each time, he woke up covered in sweat, breathing heavily and wiping tears away in frustration. These dreams weren’t real, he knew that. But they felt like they were.

Slowly, over the months, they faded until they were sights and sounds and smells. They’d never truly go away, Noctis knew, but he never saw the alpha’s face clearly anymore. He took that as a form of relief.

It made him less apprehensive about giving birth.

Not that labor wasn’t scary in general. When the contractions started and everyone had shuffled him onto a bed, turning the abandoned seaside house into a makeshift hospital, he was just about terrified. When he started to push, he dropped the ‘just about’. It simply _was_ terrifying. Everything could go wrong, and he wasn’t ready to be a father, and he’d wanted to have his mates’ children, and…

And then he held that tiny little being in his arms. That fragile little boy with his rosy plum cheeks and wispy black hair. His shining blue eyes staring up at Noctis’ own before drifting off as he minded his own business. This was the kid Noctis carried for nine months, the kid he spoke to some nights when he woke from his nightmares, the kid who’s kicks met his palms like little fluttering butterflies, the kid that wiggled around happily at the sounds of Prompto, Ignis and Gladio’s voices, the kid that came out kicking and screaming and only settled down when he was placed in his father’s arms. Noctis realized in that moment that he didn’t give a fuck who the other parent was. He loved his son.

Maybe that was what finally started to heal him.

**Author's Note:**

> See, I usually don’t write stuff like this because then I feel bad and these poor boys deserve better. I need to write them some fluff.
> 
>  
> 
>   
>  ~~Also it's terrible. If anyone actually read through 6000 words of this mess, I apologize.~~  
> 


End file.
